My birthday is quickly whizzing it's way towards me and this year I want to do precisely what I wanted to do last year...nothing.
It's not that I don't love celebrating them, just not mine. I don't know when the joy of it disappeared, probably around the time I realized that my biological clock was an epic fail and that growing older only meant more failure. I'd rather it be just any other day. I'm not saying this to be shy and humble, I honestly mean it. I do not like my birthday nor do I need any attention but my family are those folks who aren't about to listen to me and will celebrate it anyhow, never mind how I may feel about it. Of course I love them to pieces for loving me this much and trying to make it special but the internal demons of mine just sort of sit back and make me uncomfortable.
Anyhow moving on.
I'll share a few happy memories though of myself when I was a kid in regards to my birthday, maybe that will cheer this otherwise pretty depressing blog up.
Yes, as a child I loved the coming of my birthday, particularly because it was accompanied with the birth of Jesus (I realize this isn't the time of year that Jesus was actually born but hey, who am I to argue?). The lights, the good cheer, the whimsy also played into it.
Now even as a kid I was pretty non-demanding. I didn't aspire to lofty heights of gift receiving. I knew my dad worked hard and was generous to begin with so why ask for more? Every birthday of course my parents would ask me what I wanted and I would spend quite a bit of time in answering, mulling over options carefully, checking out prices, making sure the economy of it was reasonable. I had no interest in busting the bank account.
My brother, on the other hand, had no such qualms. He was (and still is) a big techie who was into all the electronics that one can imagine a boy of his age to be. And he did not demure when asked what he wanted for his special day. The gifts ran the gamut from:
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| This is a Walkman. You shoved a tape into it and jammed out. This is the great great great greatttttttttt grandpa of the iPod, just in case you were wondering. |
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| Another oldie but goodie (sorta like myself). The Atari gaming console. This was also the great grandparent to the Xbox except it wasn't wireless so you had to sit within 5 feet from the TV and practically go blind. |
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| Hello Computer. This was some cutting edge shiz here. |
And then on his 18th birthday he asked for this:
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| Labron convertible, which he wrecked within 1 week of getting it home because he was showing off with his buddy John in the car and that too down our neighborhood street, practically right in front of my aunts home. |
Right out of the showroom too. After all it was an important milestone which deserved an important gift. Incidentally, Dad was more than willing to give me a car for my 18th as well but I said no. I didn't feel as if I was 'responsible' enough and therefore continued to drive the hand-me-down Mazda 626 (which was a badass ride anyhow). I wanted to wait for my 21st which is precisely what I did. I sure was a stupid kid. *smh*
I was indeed very conscientious. One year after saving up my Eid money, I bought this:
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| Oh how many random nights I slept in this thing in the living room. And even, on occasion, in bed. |
That's right, a Care Bear sleeping bag. Now that I think about it, it may have been Strawberry Shortcake because I was big into that, or maybe even Little Orphan Annie...anywho...I was so excited about it too and a bit proud of myself because I was able to buy it without the assistance of my parents. My brother thought I was dumb as hell because had I asked the parentals, they would have ponied up with nary a word. But no, I was going to do it, just me. I even remember the Toys'r'Us I purchased it from, which was in College Park near the Indian stores...ok I'm rambling.
One year, I think I was turning 10, my mother asked me what I wanted for my upcoming big day. Again I spiraled into the normal thought process which takes at least a week, scouring toy magazines that are abundant during the holidays. I watched the commercials on TV avidly, as if my life depended upon it and then the big light bulb moment...I wanted Operation, the game, not to be confused with an operation.
Dad took me to the store and bought it for me; I was practically giddy with excitement as I held the plastic covered board game close to my heart. Before this, I hadn't told anyone what I wanted, thinking that what I would come home with would impress the lot of them. I remember proudly showing it off to my mother who stared at it, looked back at me, and said, Are you sure you don't want anything else with this? I shook my head, eyes full of love as I looked down upon the still unwrapped box and a bit perplexed. Why would anyone want anything other than this?!?! I wondered dreamy-eyed (this is how I look at a piece of chocolate mousse cake now). She persisted though, We can get you something else, if you want. This is just 10 dollars. I would not budge. I didn't want anything else. I had what I wanted and that made me happy. She glared at my dad, almost accusingly and he held out his hands in defense as if to say, Don't look at me, that's what she asked for.
I played that game to death. I shared it with all my friends and some who I didn't even like. I squealed with joy when I could get one of the pieces out without the red buzzer nose going off and I took care of it, never having lost any of it. I'm not sure when it was thrown out, it may still be somewhere in the recesses of our home but I highly doubt it. However, whenever I'm in the toy store, usually with one of my nieces or nephews, if I see the game, I can't help but feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It still is a good part of my memories, even if it cost 10 bucks.
I didn't care then that it was 10 dollars or that I let a perfectly great opportunity for maximum buying power slip through my fingers. I'm pretty much still like this. I love the gifts that I receive, still get joy in unwrapping them in front of the person because what's the point of doing it alone but the thing is, I don't give a rats-behind what's actually in the box, whether it's worth $1 or $1000. Here's the way I look at things: If I really want something, I'll get it, or save up to get it. If it's a steep ticketed item, then I guess I'll be saving up for a lot longer. I do not expect anyone to give me anything for free and I am humble enough in understanding that when someone buys me something, they may be pinching some serious duckets in order to do so. The effort means way more to me than the item itself, although I also cherish the gift.
Additionally, do not believe in re-gifting. Not that I'm particularly selfish, but again it goes back to the effort someone has put into getting me something/anything. I will at least wear/utilize it once and most likely in front of that person so that they know it has been appreciated. People who seem 'disappointed' in a gift received confuse the hell out of me. These people obviously have expectations and that is seriously messed up, or so I think.
This was another slight glimpse into my psyche. Y'all have seen a lot of that throughout the course of my blogging. I don't know whether you appreciate this but I'm going to keep writing until someone tells me to stop and even then...maybe not.
Okay, back to doing something more constructive, like watching paint dry, but not really.
Have a good one!
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